


The Loving Kind

by adreadfulidea



Category: Superstore (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, F/M, Femdom, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 04:22:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12927354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adreadfulidea/pseuds/adreadfulidea
Summary: It scared Amy, sometimes, how badly she wanted Jonah.





	The Loving Kind

**Author's Note:**

> Look, nobody else will write the obvious so I must.

It scared Amy, sometimes, how badly she wanted Jonah.

She was accustomed to her desire being more manageable. With Adam, in the beginning, it had been a schoolgirl’s crush — half nervous heartbeat, fifty percent names written in the margins of her notebooks. Adam plus Amy. She’d liked it, the way their names matched. Like they were meant to be together.

She had wanted him, but she had wanted all the things he _meant_ , too. Adam was popular and he had his own car and it meant something, if he liked you. He had liked Amy. He’d liked her a lot. All those fumblings in the backseat or behind the bleachers. Eventually it brought them Emma and she would never regret that, never — but she wondered. Who else she would have wanted, if given the chance.

Jonah was different. He was a bad idea, for one thing. He was her coworker, he was underemployed and overeducated, there was some issue with his family that she didn’t really understand. He’d barely been around kids. He had a hard time deciding what he wanted, and he was always lying about being okay when he clearly he was a few bad days away from some kind of mental health event.

There was a curious pliability to him. His emotions were all so close to the surface, flickering past like pictures in a slideshow. He was a nervous wreck, frankly, and _god_ that should not have turned her on the way it did. It made her want to see more, anything he was trying to hide. To peer inside all his vulnerabilities like they were gifts she had opened ahead of schedule. To dig her nails in.

Jonah was the kind of pretty a girl wanted to break.

 

 

They were lying on the bed together that night, her reading a book and him on his phone. He was on his stomach, his attention taken by something on the screen. Probably instagram. “How come my pictures never look like that,” he’d say, browsing some ‘influencer’s’ gallery, whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. She couldn’t even figure out what an instagram model was. How was it different than a regular model? There were more boats involved, maybe?

Anyway. It didn’t matter what he was doing. What mattered was that she couldn’t stop looking at the milk-smooth back of his neck, how vulnerable and pale the skin was there. Without consciously deciding to she reached out and ran her nails from the end of his hairline to the collar of his shirt. Lightly, but it still left pink marks. He reddened easily.

She saw one of his hands curl into a fist. He shivered.

“You like that?” she asked, and then was sort of embarrassed that she had. But it was too late — not only did he hear, but he was rolling over to look at her.

He cleared his throat. “Uh,” he said. “Do — do you?”

“Okay, we are not playing that game,” she said. “Just answer the question.”

“But—”

“I asked first!”

“Yes,” he said.

Amy blinked. “Alright. Well — good.” After which she frowned. “Wait. You don’t have any kinky porn lying around or anything. Why not?”

His jaw dropped. “Amy,” he said, faux scandalized. “Have you been looking through my things?”

“Not much,” she said. “I’ve used your laptop once or twice — _what_ , you told me I could! Anyway, there wasn’t anything weird on it.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“I wouldn’t have minded getting some blackmail material.”

“I know how to clear a search history.” He shrugged and put his hand on her outstretched bare leg, spreading the fingers, rubbing with his thumb. “Besides, you’re getting it now. If you want to.”

“I want to,” she said, before pausing. Her sex life with Adam had been very conventional. “I also have some questions.”

“Ask away.”

“Do you like pain?”

His eyebrows shot up. “You went for the big guns right away, didn’t you?”

She poked him in the side with her toe. “Answer the question.”

“See?” he said. “You’re good at this already.” He put his phone aside and sat up to kiss her. She accepted it, but didn’t let him get distracted, putting a hand in the middle of his chest and pushing him back. “Okay. Okay — confession time, right?”

“Right?”

He was already sparking with nerves, she could see that by the way he licked his lips, or by his inability to look her in the eye. It made her want to soothe him, almost, except that she liked watching him twist in the wind better.

Yeah. She was into this.

“So,” he said. “I’m not, like, a hardcore masochist, or anything. I kind of barely count compared to some people in the community. But I like having my hair pulled. Or sensation play, like things that are unexpectedly hot or cold. And overstimulation and um, spanking. All of that’s pretty good. But power exchange is really the key, I think. Is this freaking you out?”

“No,” she said. He was getting flushed, and embarrassed, and she didn’t want him to stop. “I want to hear more. Tell me why it works for you.”

“Besides getting me off?” he asked, with a laugh, and looked off to the side. “It takes me out of my head, I guess. I know I don’t deal that well with negative emotions, so.” He shrugged. “It’s cathartic. And I’ve done worse and stupider things to feel that way.”

“Is there anything else you like?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Penetration.”

“Hmmm,” she said, considering. “How much can you take?”

“About four fingers,” he said. “Your hands aren’t all that big. Maybe a little more.”

Her eyebrows raised of their own accord. “Impressive.”

“Thanks.” He’d gone a serious red, now, the blush spreading down his neck. “So does that mean you want to —”

“Go bend over the dresser.”

It was by the window, in front of semi-sheer curtains. You couldn’t actually see outside, and anyway it was only an empty parking lot at night. But she thought the idea of getting caught might turn him on and judging by the look on his face she was right.

God, she thought. I’m _good_ at this. Amy liked being good at things. She had always been the first one to put up her hand in class. And he wasn’t the only one turned on; she was swollen and throbbing between her legs, the heat inside rising to the surface of her skin.

“One minute,” he said, holding up a finger. He knelt down by the bed and pulled out a drawer in his nightstand. There were some condoms in it, which she knew about, but there was also a plastic box in there that she had never investigated the contents of. He popped it open to reveal a tube of lubricant, some thin latex gloves, and a vibrator that frankly looked way better than the half-price one she had which devoured batteries like a monster.

He gave her a pair of the gloves and the lubricant. “So you just —”

Amy slipped her fingers into his hair, made a fist, and pulled his head back slowly. Her heart rattled against her ribcage at sight; the way his throat worked, the way his eyes slid closed. “Jonah,” she said, “what did I just say?” She could hardly believe herself, or her good luck when he kissed her for saying it.

“Are you sure?” he asked, grinning against her mouth.

She gave him a little shove. “The safeword is, uh… Red. Yes, red. _Go_.”

She had him take off his clothes once he was there, and then slipped her own pyjama shirt over her head and dropped it on the ground. He tried to turn around to look, but she made him face the window again. “Nope,” she said, and ran her nails down his back. They weren’t very long, so she had to press kind of hard to mark him up like she wanted.

He shifted from foot to foot. “Please?” he said, and oh, he asked so _nicely_.

She put the glove on. That part was strangely clinical, but the muscles in his back went tense at the sound. On a hunch she slapped him lightly across the ass and watched him jump and curse. Did the latex make it sting more? She wanted to ask, but she was afraid it might spoil the mood.

So she hit him again, instead.

A breath hissed out of him. “Jesus,” he said, his knuckles going tight on the edge of the dresser.

“Spread your legs,” she instructed. “Don’t make me pull your hair again.”

He hesitated, and she read the hesitation for what it was. The little brat. She delivered on her promise, tugging his hair back and then pushing him forward, her hips against his ass. He spread his legs.

It made her feel — god. Powerful, and needed, and incredibly sexy. This was so cool. Why had she wasted so much time with only vanilla sex? She could have —

“ _Amy_.”

“Right,” she said, snapping out of it.

“You can start with two fingers,” he said.

So she did.

She started with two, but she _sure_ didn’t stop there. She learned how to curl her fingers in and find his prostate, watched as his mouth twisted and his head dropped down. It wasn’t until he started to shake that she pushed in a third. That made his heels come up off the floor.

“Good?” she asked.

“God,” he choked out. “ It — Amy. _Amy_.”

“One more?” she asked. “Can you take one more, baby?” Amy didn’t use endearments all that often, but it seemed to do a lot for him.

He nodded, pushing back against her. Encouraging her every step of the way. Fuck.

“Okay,” she said. “Just stay relaxed.”

At first she thought only the tip of her pinky would fit. But he wanted four, and goddamn it she wanted to give him four — she kept pushing, careful and slow, adding more lube until they made a wet, dirty sound every time they moved together. And then she was in, all four fingers, _perfect_ —

“Jesus _Christ_ ,” he said, through clenched teeth. His hands came off the desk and he clutched at his own hair. It was curling up with sweat.

She stretched him around her knuckles, pushing in as far as she could go. Her other hand squeezed his cock, stroked him from root to tip. Then she rubbed hard with the tips of her fingers inside him. She couldn’t tell if she was hitting the right spot, now, because with so many fingers the angle seemed different.

“Oh god oh _fuck_ —”

He came with a whimper, jerking like a live wire. All over her hand and the dresser. She kept stroking until he was wrung out, twitching under her touch. “Shhh,” she said. “Shhh.”

She withdrew from him gradually. He slumped forward when she did, like he couldn’t hold himself up anymore. “There’s still a mess to clean up,” she said, inspiration striking.

(Amy always was an overachiever.)

“What?” he asked, and then his eyes went wide when he caught on. He laughed in this disbelieving but joyful way. “Oh, oh - okay, Amy. You want me to —”

“Yes,” she said, and he dropped to his knees without her having to push him at all. She watched him lick the wood clean, and then she kissed him afterwards. It was a sweet kiss, almost innocent.

“Stay here,” she said, and went to clean her hands and dispose of the glove.

The bathroom mirror was slightly foggy and the light far too yellow, but she still looked amazing in it, her hair wild and her lips bitten , like a pinup, like she was the one who had just gotten the fucking of her life. She was so aroused it almost hurt.

When she came back in he was sitting on the floor, stretching his shoulders. Amy went and got the box from where she had left it on the bed, and he pulled her down and kissed her when she got close enough.

“I love you,” he said.

“I know,” she told him, and touched his face. “You do look kind of high.”

“It’s a natural high,” he said. “So it’s okay. What do you want me to do for you?”

She’d been waiting for the question. “I want to take this for a test drive,” she said, opening the box. “And I’d like to know it was selfish of you to keep it from me. It’s not nearly as nice as the one I have at home.”

“That’s because you never upgrade your technology, Amy,” he said, and turned the vibrator on. “You still had AIM on your computer until I took it off.”

“Hey,” she said. “There were very important chats that I wanted to keep — _whoa_.” Fuck, the vibrator _was_ better than hers, and even through her underwear it made her thighs fall apart and tremble as she strained for more. She was panting and clawing at Jonah’s back, lifting her hips towards him, and when he pressed hard against her clit she came almost _instantly_. She even screamed, just a bit, muffled by his shoulder.

“Fuck,” she said, her toes digging into the carpet. The orgasm took some time to wind down and left her boneless when it did. He laid her gently on her back and went to move away, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm. “One more,” she said, just because she could.

 

 

 

 


End file.
